


when all the darkness fades away

by blurryfaced_dreamer



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Angst, Break Up, M/M, Sad, alcohol abuse tw, at least i think it's sad, god i'm so bad at this i need to stop, how do you do tags i have nO idea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-06-08 19:04:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6869680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blurryfaced_dreamer/pseuds/blurryfaced_dreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“he loved you.”</p><p>“he did. past tense.”</p><p>“he still loves you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> lack of capitalization is intentional. This is my first fic, so forgive me if it's awful okok bye

he arrived at her house drunk. beer-on-his-breath, stumbling-into-the-living-room drunk. leaning on the doorframe to keep from falling onto the just-polished hardwood floor. he could hear the television from what seemed like miles away; the too-cheerful voice of a sitcom mom, the laugh of a studio audience.

he came home drunk, and jenna was there, muttering a series of “oh god” and “not again, please, god” as she guided him to the bathroom. she quickly closed the door shut behind him and slid down the wall, trying not to listen to the sounds of vomiting coming from the other side of that door. her breathing was shallow, and the house was too quiet.

there was a framed picture of her and tyler on the wall opposite her. a long crack ran along the left side of it, and she was reminded all too forcefully of one of many times josh had shown up drunk and had thrown it to the floor (“not him, not him, not him everywhere, not him here too”).

“josh?”

she knocked on the door lightly, pressing her ear to the white wood.

“josh? are you okay?”

she stood up, hesitantly twisting the doorknob, only to find it locked — and _oh god her razors were in there oh god please no please open, door, please open._ but of course the door couldn’t hear her, couldn’t understand. not even when her tears dripped down onto its silver knob. not until the soft click of the lock opening sounded through the hall did it allow her to open it.

josh was curled up in a ball in the corner of the room, leaning against the bathtub, his head buried in his hands. the smell of vomit was strong, and jenna wrinkled her nose in spite of herself, staying in the doorway of the small bathroom, almost afraid to enter. “josh. listen to me,” she begged. “do you want me to call him? i can call him, he can be here in a second—”

“no,” josh croaked, his voice muffled, pained. “don’t. i don’t want him to—to have to deal with me—”

at this she took the first step into the room. “he doesn’t hate you, you know.”

“yes, he does.” josh looked up (his eyes were red, red from crying red from lack of sleep red from the alcohol), fighting to keep his voice steady. “you weren’t there, you didn’t hear him that night.”

jenna opened her mouth to reply, but stopped herself. she couldn’t argue with him. not now.

besides, she hadn’t been there. during their fight. when tyler had realized exactly where josh had been the night he’d left town, when his voice grew hoarse from shouting (“you told me you broke it off ages ago, you told me you hadn’t seen her in years, josh, you liar, you lied to me”). when josh had tried to find some excuse as to why he had gone to debby’s apartment miles away from their hometown. when tyler had demanded to know why he wasn’t enough for him. she hadn’t been there for any of it, and she knew she couldn’t pretend to understand.

“he loved you.”

“he did. past tense.”

“he still loves you.”

josh scoffed. “please.”

she sat down next to him, hugging her knees to her chest. “i haven’t told him. how often you come here.” she paused. “but i have told him you, uh. haven’t talked to debby since—”

“don’t,” josh cut her off. “don’t bring that up. please.”

his voice broke off, he took a second to compose himself.

it was silent, with the exception of the slow _drip_ of the sink (jenna needed to get that fixed, she reminded herself, she could hear it at night she could hear it when josh locked himself in the bathroom for hours at two in the morning).

“i told him you loved him.”

josh was silent.

_drip, drip, drip._

“he said you didn’t. he said you never did.”

josh raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. “why are you telling me this?”

_drip, drip, drip._

“because i’ve never seen two people who loved each other as much as you two did. all that can’t be gone, it can’t be just—just gone like that—” her throat tightened and she fought tears. she couldn’t let herself cry. not now, when josh needed her.

“i don’t know what to tell you,” he muttered, his voice shaking. “it’s gone. whatever we had, it’s gone, and it’s my fault.”

“maybe all you need to do is let him know you still love him, and not her, and—”

“this isn’t a hallmark channel movie, jenna,” he snapped. “things don’t magically get better with an apology and a stupid, happy little montage. this is my life, his life, and i fucked everything up, and it’s never, ever getting better—i’m never getting him back.”

there was no point. it seemed like another night during which josh would make jenna’s bathroom his home, spend the night wide-awake and huddled in that corner, trying to think of anything but tyler, to focus on anything else. the hum of the air conditioner. the drip of the sink. the cars driving past outside her second-story window.

and jenna slowly got up, made her way down the hallway to her bedroom.

neither of them got any sleep that night.

_drip, drip, drip._

how could they?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he stayed there, struggling to keep breathing steadily, air dragging through his lungs like molasses, almost painful. everything was suffocating him.
> 
> above the ringing in his ears, above the traffic and the chatter of the city, one voice rang out.
> 
> “josh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, here I am again! thank you for the positivity towards the last chapter, hope you enjoy this one <3
> 
> tw: alcoholism

it was around three-thirty in the morning when josh crept out of jenna’s apartment, careful to avoid stepping on the floorboards he knew creaked. he shrugged on his jacket, blinking to clear his vision of the tears from hours ago.

something dragged him back down to the bar on seventh street. his feet knew the way, though his mind was still clouded, hazy. something told him to keep going. to keep going back. _it’s just around the corner here,_ the small voice in his gut told him. 

and the neon sign was there; the sign advertising **BEER, COCKTAILS, MUSIC** in bright flashing letters above the front door. that sign was practically imprinted in josh’s mind from the number of times he’d seen it. he squinted against the shimmering lights and pushed open the door.

instantly the sounds of the bar flooded his ears: the chatter of the room, the blaring music (some pop song from the late nineties), the clinking of glasses and mugs and slurred voices saying something along the lines of “here’s to living the life; i’ll drink to that!” amidst the confusion of the bar, josh pushed his way through the crowd and slid into an open seat at the counter, slapping down a five-dollar bill for a drink.

“what are you doing here again, boy?”

the low, gravelly voice of the bartender, muffled against the chaos of the bar. josh looked up to see the man’s dark eyes staring directly at him, filled with what appeared to be a combination of anger and concern.

“me?” josh’s voice was more choked-up than he had intended, and he cleared his throat.

“yeah, you. thought i told you to scram hours ago.” the bartender dragged the corner of a silky white cloth lazily along the inside of a glass, polishing it. “you’ve had way too much for one night. prob’ly way too much for one lifetime, if i’m honest.”

a pang of guilt stung josh’s stomach, and he thought of leaving. he thought of never coming back, but the memories of that awful night with tyler played through his brain again, and the regret drowned out whatever guilt had been there. “i just need a drink. please.” the words seemed almost impossible to string together. his mind was still buzzing.

the man shook his head stubbornly. “can’t, boy. i’m cutting you off, hear? you’ve had enough.”

he’d had enough.

josh gave up. he wasn’t going to sit here all night begging for a drink. he dragged his five-dollar bill back towards him and shoved it into his pocket, nodding a goodbye to the man behind the counter.

he’d get a drink somehow. he needed one.

the lights of the run-down city were almost blinding, and the car horns seemed a hundred times louder, ringing through his ears. the cool air nipped at his neck, and he pulled his jacket tighter around him. he couldn’t exactly map out the city to find the nearest bar, not in this state. hell, he could hardly even remember his own last name.

he rounded the corner, giving in to the fact that he would probably be wandering around all night if he didn’t collapse first — and yep, that was too much walking, his vision was blurring his mind was fuzzy he extended an arm to steady himself and found himself leaning against the wall of the nearest building.

he stayed there, struggling to keep breathing steadily, air dragging through his lungs like molasses, almost painful. everything was suffocating him.

above the ringing in his ears, above the traffic and the chatter of the city, one voice rang out.

“josh?”

 _oh, god._ surely not. what were the odds?

“josh, is that you?”

there was no mistaking it, that was tyler’s voice, and judging by the sound of footsteps against concrete and the voice getting louder (“josh, what happened?”) he was approaching him, and this was the last thing josh wanted. this wasn’t how he’d planned to spend this night.

“don’t wanna talk t’ you, tyler,” josh managed to stammer. he shook his head, trying to clear his vision, his mind.

tyler didn’t say anything for a moment. “are you—where were you just now—what—?”

josh tried to leave, tried to walk away, because if they were going to talk in person for the first time in months he didn’t want it to be like this. but he stumbled, tripped over himself, and found himself falling against tyler, leaning against him for support.

“you need to get home.” not a suggestion, josh noticed, a command, a demand. “i’m calling a taxi, you—”

“go with me.”

where did those words come from? surely they were not his own, because why on earth would josh say that? what would possess him to say something like that? but it was his voice, his lips forming those words.

he heard the sound of a car pulling up to the curb and he opened his eyes slightly; sure enough there was the yellow blur he assumed to be a taxi. someone opened the door for him.

“go with me,” he insisted again.

this time tyler replied. “i can’t.”

“why not?”

“you know why not.” tyler’s voice was soft, hesitant, and josh stopped himself from saying anything more.

tyler gave the driver josh’s address and before he knew it, the city was speeding by outside the window and tyler was gone, long gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't say this enough: thank you so much for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “you’re not sorry you did it, josh. you’re sorry i found out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we go, chapter three of whatever this is  
> thanks for sticking with me, again, this is my first fic so i'm trYInG

josh woke up to a splitting headache.

a splitting headache, a dry mouth, and nausea stinging in the pit of his stomach.

he groaned, and pulled the sheets up over his face. _great._ a hangover was really _not_ what he needed right now.

and, hang on. those were his sheets. this was his bed. he pulled the sheets down slightly. sure enough, that was his grotesquely 70s-esque popcorn ceiling he was staring up at. this was his apartment. what on earth had he done last night? the last thing he remembered was heading down to the bar on seventh street, tyler’s voice filling his guilt-ridden mind, forcing him to remember that horrible night. and now he was here. god, what _had_ he done last night?

groggily, he rolled over, squinting to make out the numbers on the digital clock next to his bed. one forty-two. oh, perfect; he’d slept through half the day.

and his phone was ringing.

what a way to wake up.

the caller ID told him it was jenna calling, and reluctantly, he pressed the _accept call_ button.

“h’lo?” his voice was raspy, and he tried desperately to rid his mouth of the gross dryness.

“josh, oh my god, i woke up and you weren’t there, you weren’t anywhere, and—”

“jenna, i’m fine.” 

“i called the bar and the man there said you went back down and—” her voice cracked. josh swore he could almost hear the tears pooling up in her eyes .

“jenna.”

“don’t ‘jenna’ me.” there it was; the cold undertone in her voice. this happened every time he left her apartment. “you shouldn’t have gone back.”

josh couldn’t defend himself. not when he himself couldn’t even remember having gone back. hell, he didn’t even remember having talked to her last night.

except, wait. there was something there. some vague memory struggling to surface. “i was at your apartment last night?”

“yeah, you don’t remember…? you came over here, we talked about, um. about tyler, and i went to sleep. and you went back to the bar, and then off to god knows where…” she kept on, rambling about how insensitive it was of him to have left her, but he’d stopped listening.

jenna’s apartment. the bar. and then where? straight back to his apartment? no, he wouldn’t have had the common sense to go home, not when he had been that drunk. so how…?

_josh?_

little by little, the memories of the previous night teased their way back into josh’s mind. the lights of the city. the cool breeze, the smell of sewer water. and tyler’s voice.

_josh, is that you?_

“can i call you back?” he asked jenna absentmindedly, not waiting for a response before hanging up.

_don’t wanna talk t’ you, tyler._

_are you—where were you just now—what—?_

he clutched his phone loosely in his hand, everything coming back to him now. the dead of night, the abstract sounds of seventh street. tyler. seeing tyler again for the first time after months, months of nothing. 

_you need to get home._

_go with me._

of course, that mindless request. that stupid, inconsiderate request. what had josh been thinking? surely he’d known tyler would refuse.

_i can’t._

surely he hadn’t even imagined tyler could have forgotten about what they had, all that they lost. 

_you know why not._

so why would he ask something like that?

his hands shaking, he clicked on his phone, and saw that he had five messages. his heart stopped when he saw tyler’s name at the top of his lock screen.

 

**TYLER**

**3:56 AM**

_hey, did you get home okay?_

**TYLER**

**4:02 AM**

_josh?_

**JENNA**

**8:14 AM**

_where are you??_

**JENNA**

**8:15 AM**

_please text me back i’m worried_

**TYLER**

**12:34 PM**

_call me, OK?_

 

josh blinked. something wasn’t right. tyler asking him to call him? no way. he sat there, staring at the messages, debating. to call or not to call; that is the question.

well, if he was going to, he should probably get some water first.

he slid out of bed and shuffled into the kitchen, barely avoiding crashing into the doorframe in his still-half-asleep state. after filling a glass with water from the sink, he headed back into the bedroom, trying to walk as slowly as possible to delay making that phone call.

it wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to tyler. he did. he had to explain, to try as best he could to apologize for what he did. but the one thing he didn’t know if he could handle was the hurt he knew would be in tyler’s voice. to know he caused that, to know what he’d done to tyler…that was the reason he’d gone to that damned bar in the first place.

but time was not on his side, and sooner or later, he found himself dialing tyler’s all-too-familiar phone number.

he picked up on the second ring.

“josh?”

the hurt josh had expected wasn’t there, concern taking its place.

“yeah, uh…just calling to let you know i got home okay.” _and i’m sorry._

“oh. right.”

silence.

“listen, tyler…” _i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m so sorry_

“don’t.”

“just let me explain. you didn’t give me a chance to explain.”

“what is there to explain?” and there it was. the inevitable pained undertone to his voice. and josh was _there,_ back in that night when it all fell apart.

“i-” _so much. there’s so much to explain, there’s so much i need to tell you._

“if you’re thinking you can fix things with your apologies and—and comforting, or whatever, it’s not going to work, okay?” he didn’t sound mad. he sounded hurt, and that was a million times worse.

“i know, believe me, i-”

“don’t.”

silence.

nothing to hold back the words from spilling out.

“i’m sorry. for—for what i did with debby, for not thinking of you, for screwing up, i—i don’t know what to say, i’m just…god, i’m just so sorry.” he was getting choked up, tears stinging at his eyes, and he tried not to think, to just block out everything around him.

“you’re not sorry you did it, josh. you’re sorry i found out.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> if this was over, if it was really and truly over forever, he couldn’t just leave it the way it was — with tyler angry and upset, with his own conscience dragging him down to that same old bar night after night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so here it is, the final chapter. thank you so much for reading and for sticking with me on this one!

_you’re not sorry you did it, josh._

but of course he was — of course josh was sorry for what had happened. every second of every day he spent wishing he could go back and do it all over, fix everything.

but that was the day. every night his only worry was that he didn’t have enough money left for that last drink at the bar on seventh street.

a handful of loose change fished from the back pocket of his jeans spelled out “one more drink” in josh’s mind, and he slid the pile of quarters and dimes across the counter to the bartender.

“rough night, buddy?”

it was a different man than it had been for most of the nights josh had visited the bar. this man was younger, his face was kinder. he’d had his share of heartbreak. maybe some nights this man had been the guy searching madly for that handful of change that could cloud his mind, help him forget about his life.

of course, maybe josh was thinking too much about this new bartender. who knows?

“yeah,” he replied. “as usual.”

a gold name tag on the man’s chest read B-R-E-N-D-O-N. josh made a mental note of that as B-R-E-N-D-O-N grabbed josh’s change from the counter and turned to fix him another drink.

“so, is it a girl?” B-R-E-N-D-O-N asked politely, his back still to josh. “family issues?”

“a guy, actually,” josh muttered. “i screwed up.” he wasn’t sure why that made him laugh to himself a bit. maybe because ‘i screwed up’ was the understatement of the year.

“oh, i see,” the bartender replied, turning back around and handing josh an ice-cold glass. “have you tried, um. talking to him?”

josh shrugged, his shoulders hunched, staring down at his drink. how could he begin to explain the number of times he’d tried in vain to reach tyler? “yeah. didn’t work.” honestly, this was the last thing he wanted to talk about right now. he’d come to the bar to forget about tyler, and yet here he was, explaining how he’d ruined his own life to some man behind the counter.

“well, guess now you know for next time,” B-R-E-N-D-O-N said, a sad smile on his face. “in every mistake lies a lesson.” he sounded like a cheesy greeting card. josh didn’t like it.

he didn’t want there to be a ‘next time.’

could he even find it in himself to be with someone else? could he stay up until two in the morning talking about nothing in the silence of his apartment with someone else, like he’d done with tyler? could he sit down by the ocean with someone else, feet dangling off the end of the dock?

the more he imagined himself with this mystery person, the more he grew to hate them. he couldn’t. he couldn’t do any of it. none of it would be the same. everything would remind him of tyler, and he couldn’t just lie his way through a relationship convincing himself he’d ‘moved past’ what had happened with tyler.

he hadn’t.

and something inside of him told him he never would.

he had to see tyler.

if this was over, if it was really and truly over forever, he couldn’t just leave it the way it was — with tyler angry and upset, with his own conscience dragging him down to that same old bar night after night.

lost inside his own thoughts, josh slid off the barstool and headed for the door, stumbling a bit. he heard B-R-E-N-D-O-N calling after him (“have a good night!”, as if), but his voice was muffled.

in that moment there was no such thing as _too drunk to drive._

he knew the way to tyler’s apartment all too well. he blinked, trying to focus the muddled haze of headlights and street-lamps that lay before him. part of him told him this was a bad idea, he should just wait until morning, it could wait. everything could wait. in all honesty, josh told himself, that was probably the smarter option.

but he wasn’t worried about what was smart. he had to get to tyler, and that feeling drowned out everything else by a wide margin.

the car sputtered to a start.

_this was a bad idea._

his hands shaking, josh began slowly navigating his way to the road he knew would lead to tyler’s apartment—terrified, still terrified, as he'd never really driven after going to the bar. it was close enough so that he could walk either back home or to jenna’s, and those were the only two places he ever went on one of those nights.

the road was a blur. he felt slightly nauseous.

what was it jenna had said? he struggled to remember now, concentrating on driving straight.

_all that can’t be gone._

maybe it wasn’t gone. josh had spent months telling himself he’d ruined his chances at a happily ever after, but maybe, just maybe—

_turn left turn left not too wide don’t hit that trash can—_

—just maybe.

every building began to look the same. _this isn’t right._ he wasn’t drunk. how could he be? he’d only had a few drinks. driving was fine. driving would take him to tyler. driving was fine.

the road began to clear out. there weren't as many cars, unusual for this time of night in a city like his.

_all that can’t be gone._

_it isn’t gone. it isn’t gone. it can’t be gone._

just one more turn, now, he was almost there.

as he rounded the corner, amidst the blur of muddy colors and voices, a pair of headlights became blindingly clear. the car ahead of him was too close.

josh instinctively raised an arm to shield his eyes from the light, his heart pounding, spinning the steering wheel madly—

_—can’t be gone—_

the lights rushed closer, too close, the car horn blaring out—

_can’t be—_

this couldn’t be happening, not now, he was so close, he could see tyler’s apartment from here, _please, no, god, please._

_all that can’t be gone._

_can’t be—_

**_c r a s h_ **

_g o n e._


End file.
